


The Journal of Trayps Verdan

by Sibre



Category: Savage Worlds (Roleplaying Game), Shaintar
Genre: Backstory, Diary/Journal, Elves, High Fantasy, M/M, Orcs, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sibre/pseuds/Sibre
Summary: In the world of Shaintar, there are several races of fae, or elves, the oldest of which are the faelakar, spirits brought into the world when it was new and given living forms to dwell in. Though ageless, they are not immortal, and very few remain. But 8,000-some years is a long time for one person to live. One such faelakar, Verdan the Healer, is weary of the world and life, and enters hibernation as a tree in a secluded forest grove.Until he is woken up by a young orcish bard's music, and his attention is captured. Soon enough, so is his heart. But can love last between two who are so different?
Relationships: Trayps Verdan/Harry Mak'Torr





	The Journal of Trayps Verdan

**Author's Note:**

> This is the backstory to two NPCs who appeared in the Savage Worlds - Shaintar campaign I've been running recently. Harry, aka Mak'Torr, was just the tavern keeper with a request to find his missing partner. The adventure deepened from there, as did their involvement. I liked them so much, I wanted to write about how they met. This story is set about 15 years before my campaign. Because Harry got the lion's share of appearances there, I thought it'd be interesting to explore Trayps, aka Verdan's perspective. The Shaintar world has most of the standard fantasy races, with a few twists. I'll put a glossary of terms that are unique to the setting at the end.

#### 1

It’s been a while since I’ve kept a journal, but as I’m going to need to teach Galean writing soon, I thought I could use it for practice. It’s also a way to keep my thoughts in order. Being as old as I am, I sometimes lose all sense of when something happened, if indeed I remember it at all. That’s not a complaint - a perfect memory would be a curse when one has seen as much loss and pain as I.

I may as well start with the circumstances of my awakening from hibernation. A while ago (I truly have no idea how long, as I haven’t yet found anyone who can tell me what year it is), I tired of life, as I occasionally have over the millennia, so I found a secluded forest grove where I wouldn’t be bothered and took root there. I call it hibernation, but I’ve been told it looks more like “turning into a tree” by folk who have seen it. Either way, I’m not really conscious. With a few exceptions, plants don’t have to think, they just exist. Like a sleeping person, I have some awareness of my surroundings, but unless it’s some kind of major disaster, it’s hard to get my attention. I was content to sleep there for centuries, possibly for all time.

I remained in that state until a few days ago, when I became aware of someone sitting in my shade and making music. I couldn’t see who it was in my arboreal state, but I could hear and feel him. Neither his guitar or voice were played expertly, and I’ve certainly heard far more technically impressive performances, but something about it moved me. It’s hard for me to describe why, but I’ll make an effort. There was a sort of unguarded and pure nature to it that appealed. But it wasn’t naive: I got the sense that the musician had endured quite a bit of pain even in his short time alive, but he wasn’t crushed by it. Instead, he was looking forward to leaving it all behind, and wasn’t the prospect of finding something better worth exulting for? I suppose it was that hope for the future that had been missing in my recent life, and I found myself hoping he’d stay. He built a fire with some deadwood (I appreciated that he didn’t harm the trees, though I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had), slept, and left in the morning without playing again - though he did hum as he packed up. That was when I roused myself from my slumber, returning stiffly to my humanoid form. I had to if I wanted to follow him, and hear that music again.

By the time I was ready to move, he was some distance away, but I wasn’t concerned about tracking him. The forest spirits would tell me where he was as long as he didn’t get too far from the trees. It had been they who had led him to my grove, sensing that he was harmless and in need of a safe place to sleep. I thanked them for that, and said my goodbyes. I also dug up the few valuables I’d hidden for when I’d next become animate: a small bag of coins and my Raven Brooch, a gift from Saiderin the Wanderer. He’d given it to me when he’d heard that I was planning to take root, and suggested I use it to see the world from a different perspective. I was too world-weary to take his advice at the time, but now I remembered the burdens and risks of being a faelakar in the world, and used it to change my appearance. I decided an eldakar form would be safe enough without forcing me to adopt a persona. I found that the brooch didn’t just project an illusion like I'd expected, but rather changed my body physiologically. My sepia-colored skin faded to a light tan even as it softened from a thin bark to a smooth, elastic layer, and the moss-like filaments of my hair fused themselves together to form long strands, though they at least retained their shade of emerald green. I found that most of my senses were amplified, with sharper eyesight and hearing, at the expense of my innate perception of the spirit world. Fortunately, I found I could still access that sense with a little concentration, and more importantly the brooch’s power was reversible. I hurried to catch up with my musician.

I caught up just as he was exiting the forest. To my surprise, he wasn’t a human or an elf like I’d expected, but a goblinesh - an orc, to be precise. It was unexpected because the forest spirits that had led him to me should have kept away anyone with the usual goblinesh tinge of Darkness. While, as a being close to the spirit world, I have an instinctive repulsion to Darkness, I’ve come to learn that bearing it is no personal flaw, just the opposite in fact. However, I didn’t expect the simple forest spirits to be able to see the nuance. I soon ascertained that they hadn’t - this orc was simply one of the rare goblinesh born without any trace of Darkness. It’s been known to happen, though they don’t always survive long in the rather harsh culture of the northern goblinesh. I now understood why he seemed to be leaving them.

I was also surprised at his youth - adult, but only just. I mentioned before that his musical skill wasn’t expert, but the emotion he’d put into his playing had made me imagine someone older. Otherwise, he appeared a typical orc, about a head shorter than I but at least twice the weight, and well proportioned. He has black hair, cut short in a classic orc warrior style, and wispy facial hair. His skin is a lovely green, somewhat lighter in shade than my hair. I got his attention and introduced myself, or at least tried to. He only spoke Goblinesh fluently, and it wasn’t a language I’d ever picked up myself. He did know a few words in Galean, but we still mostly had to communicate using gestures. I did at least learn his name - Mak’Torr. I later learned that this meant something like ‘Great’ or ‘Powerful’ in his native language, which didn’t seem to fit him at all. Oh, he was strong enough, stronger and larger than most humans, as orcs typically are, but his nature seemed more gentle and friendly than his caste is expected to be. He was delighted to meet me right from the start, despite the language barrier, and didn’t seem to question my desire to travel with him. For my part, I just wanted to stay nearby and listen to his music again, which he played most every evening. As I wasn’t really giving him anything in exchange, I decided that I would simply do what I could to ease his journey, wherever that took him.

I think that’s enough writing for today. My next entries will be shorter - we stayed at an inn in a small town today, as there were thunderstorms all day. Mak’Torr needed the rest anyway - I think he’d been traveling on foot for days before I met him. I paid for the room (also this journal), as he doesn’t have any money. He was able to make a few coins playing in the inn’s common room, though. The other orcs didn’t seem to like one of their fellows being the entertainment, but the goblins seemed to like it. Mak’Torr would have had an easier time in life if he’d been born a goblin, I think.

  


#### 2

On the road again. We’re slowly heading south, and I think Mak’Torr intends to leave goblinesh territory altogether. I’d do the same in his position. Tonight, he managed to catch a rabbit for dinner with his bare hands. He just crept up and snatched it out of its burrow. I was impressed and a bit horrified. I don’t disapprove of others eating meat, but as someone who can and has shapechanged into rabbits and other prey animals, I can’t stomach it myself. I empathize with them too much. At least he killed it quickly. He skinned and cleaned the carcass well enough, but I had to stop him when he tried to put it in the fire. I may not eat meat, but I do have experience cooking it. He clearly never had, and would have ended up with meat that was black outside and underdone inside. I adjusted the fire to produce less flame, and then showed him how to set up a rudimentary spit. I got by with some roasted tubers I’d dug up, as my caloric needs are lower. I offered one to Mak’Torr, but he didn’t seem to like it. It needs seasoning, for sure.

  


#### 3

Not much new to report in the past couple days. I saw a large gather in the distance before we set up camp, and we should reach it tomorrow. We appear to be solidly in goblinesh territory: they’d expanded west since I entered hibernation. Once Mak’Torr fell asleep, I tried experimenting with my brooch a little. I tried turning into an orc, which I thought might be useful here in goblinesh territory, as well as human, which would blend in better in the south. I didn’t particularly like either one. I felt even further from the spirit world in both forms, compared to eldakar, and most of my worldly senses were also less sharp. Strange - I thought that those races that were closer to Shaintar’s physical aspect would naturally have better senses to perceive it, but that seems not to be the case. Or perhaps we faelakar overdid it when we created the eldakar - it is true that bright light or loud noises can hurt their sensitive eyes and ears.

Either way, the world felt more muted as the other races, and I didn’t like that. Human was the worst, with terrible night vision. I couldn’t even see enough to find this journal. Perhaps this is why humans are known for their imaginations. Orc was a little better - their eyes can see infrared, though it gets overwhelmed in daylight. Still, I now know how Mak’Torr found that rabbit (and some other game since then). It’s actually fun to look in that spectrum - I looked at Mak’Torr, and he was glowing! It was cute. I suppose he sees the same when he looks at me in the dark. The goblinesh also seem to have more powerful noses than humans or elves. That might have useful applications, but mostly I just noticed that I really need a bath. That is not something I am used to. I suppose that’s the animal kingdom for you.

However, though I don’t have a mirror, I noticed another problem when I felt my face - it didn’t change, except for some smallish tusks - so I suspect I would make an extremely unconvincing orc. Or human, for that matter. It appears the brooch has more trouble with bone than it has with soft tissue and organs. Except for the tusks, but I suppose teeth are fairly small. I also tried some other forms, like goblin, ogre, and dregordian, and couldn’t manage any change at all. I think the difference in stature is just a bridge too far for the brooch. So much for blending in.

  


#### 4

In town again, Ud, I think it’s called. My comprehension of Goblinesh is getting better, though Mak’Torr still has to do all the talking. Outside the gathers, he seems less interested in teaching me Goblinesh than in learning Galean. That makes sense if he doesn’t intend to stay. I was at least able to find a merchant who sold spices, and picked up a few satchels that will be useful for all sorts of foods on the road. I probably paid too much, but that’s all right. The shopkeeper seemed like I’d made her day. Mak’Torr bought a basic bow and some arrows, which should make his hunting more efficient. Infrared vision or no, one can’t catch everything with one’s hands. We’ll likely stay in town for a few days, though.

  


#### 5

Mak’Torr got roughed up by a gang of orcs today. They broke his guitar, about which I am livid. It could have been worse, but I was following at a distance and shapechanged into a tiger when I heard the commotion. I was angry enough that I had to hold myself back from injuring them too severely. Gave them a few scratches and the fright of their lives, I expect. Mak’Torr seemed more resigned and sad than angry, though. I healed his (minor) wounds and took him back to our room at the inn. That was more magic than I’ve ever used around him before, but he barely noticed. He just looked defeated. To cheer him up, I went out and bought him a new guitar. It’s probably nicer than his old one, though it’s a little small for him as it was made for goblins. I don’t think it quite made up for the events of the day, but he did perk up at the sight of it, and immediately started trying it out - though not in the common room, I noticed. He also managed to thank me in Galean, so he’s progressing on that front.

  


#### 6

We left Ud early and entered the Evershade Forest. Mak’Torr seemed apprehensive about it, but I assured him it’s the fastest way south. Besides, despite its reputation for being full of ferocious monsters, it only poses danger to newcomers who are unfamiliar with it. I, of course, am at home in any forest. There are indeed dangerous creatures in places, but they’re easy enough to avoid if one can recognize the markings that identify their territories. I admit it doesn’t help that the main roads through the forest pass indiscriminately through any such territories (to be fair, the creatures probably changed their territories after the road was built - but in elven lands, we change the paths regularly to accommodate them). I also called some local spirits to help guide us - more for Mak’Torr’s sake when we had to go off-road than mine. He’s a timid sort, but I find it preferable to the typical orcish practice of rushing headlong into danger to prove one’s bravado. I found us a safe place to camp, but he must still be scared, because he insisted on sleeping right next to me instead of on the other side of the fire. I’m glad that my presence is able to comfort him.

  


#### 7

He’s more at ease in the forest now. Still insists on sleeping next to me, though. He only managed to catch a stink lizard for his food tonight. They’re large and slow, but foul-tasting. Or, at least, they are before one applies the proper spices. I turned it into something that wouldn’t be out of place on the menu of a decent restaurant (only ‘decent’ because I don’t have the ingredients for a glaze). I thought he’d have leftovers, but he ate all of it. I must have done a good job.

  


#### 8

Made it to Rool. We won’t overstay our welcome this time. Mak’Torr didn’t even try to play in public, though we did listen to some goblins play during dinner. I appreciate their music as well, though it doesn’t appeal to me quite as much as his does.

  


#### 9

We decided to head southwest, towards Fig (terrible name, by the way). If Galea’s the destination, this isn’t really the best way to go, but it will get us to Olara and out of goblinesh territory faster, and it keeps us in the forest, where I feel most confident in my ability to protect us both from any complications. I explained this to Mak’Torr, and he seemed to understand quite well, and even provided feedback. I’m surprised at how well he’s picking up Galean when I’m the only one he’s hearing. Then again, I have taught languages to others a few times, and I know how to build on earlier words and concepts, so that likely helps.

  


#### 10

Camping in the forest again. It’s a lovely night. Uneventful.

  


#### 11

I apparently wrote the previous entry too soon. When the campfire died down and we settled down to sleep, Mak’Torr put his arm over me. When I turned my head to ask him about it, he kissed me! I suppose that much isn’t surprising. It’s not the first time it’s happened, as many races find elves attractive for whatever reason (it’s rather wasted on us, I’ve often thought, though I confess to taking advantage of it on occasion). And I have been helping and protecting him for quite a while now, so it makes sense from his side. But where normally I would gently decline his advances, instead I surprised myself by returning them in kind.

As a faelakar, a kiss on the cheek or forehead could be a welcome sign of affection, but I never got any pleasure out of kissing on the lips. I don’t honestly remember if it was the same for other faelakar; I don’t remember ever asking, as such things were none of my business and uninteresting to me. Of course we ‘reproduced’ so to speak when we created the eldakar, and I did consider them my children, but that was more like working on a complicated magic spell than animal reproduction. I didn’t even have the physical approximation of such organs. So then, being able to experience pleasure in kissing Mak’Torr was...electrifying. Saiderin certainly didn’t cut corners when he made this Raven Brooch - when I use it, I really am an eldakar, not a faelakar anymore. It’s exciting, but also unnerving. All I wanted initially was to listen to Mak’Torr’s music. Romance is notoriously fraught with complications, and it’s one of the few things I have no direct experience with. If I do something wrong, I could lose the chance to ever hear him play again. But lately I’ve found myself caring more about the person than the music. It’s certainly exceptional, but I think when we eventually part ways, I’ll remember him more than the music alone. Perhaps having something more with him is worth the risk?

Anyway, just for the record, it didn’t go much further than that last night. We kissed for what felt like quite a while, and used our free hands to caress each other, which was just as pleasurable. Mak’Torr seemed content to leave it at that, for now. It took me a long time to get to sleep after that.

  


#### 12

We arrived in Fig today. I thought that might stop Mak’Torr from expressing his attraction to me, and I was half-right. In public, he seems more distant from me. Since he still has to do most of the talking to innkeepers and such, one might even get the idea that he is my guide through the forest, instead of the other way around. However, once we were in a private room, and were fed and bathed, he essentially pounced on me. It was clear that he hoped to do much more than just kiss this time. The way it felt when he ground his pelvis into mine was indescribable. I asked him not to continue when he tried to undo my pants (he stopped without question - a good sign of his character), but not because I wasn’t enjoying it. I just need time to process these feelings before we do something I might regret. He still managed to get our tops off, and stimulated my body without even needing to touch my unfamiliar and excitable new anatomy below. The way he uses his hand, his lips, his tongue, and even his tusks - I think he’s done this before, or if not, he has quite a gift. I felt a bit useless by comparison, but he didn’t seem to mind. If this continues, I shall have to put these new tricks of his to use myself.

  


#### 13

Back on the road again. These new developments haven’t reduced Mak’Torr’s eagerness to leave goblinesh land; if anything, he’s even more energized. He likes to walk in front of me, well aware that I’m enjoying the view. Which is in of itself strange. I can accept that the brooch allows me to be - or at least simulate - a sexual being, but why should I find his body attractive? Permitting his advances because I like his music and personality and I want to give something back is one thing, but I genuinely appreciate his physical form as well. If he were an eldakar female, then this would be quite sensible. Animals, including people, need to reproduce, so they have urges that guide them in that direction.

I understand that with sentient beings, it’s more complicated than that, but still, that my eldakar male body should happen to be attracted to orcish males seems like a staggering coincidence after I chose to follow one out of a grove when I was still a faelakar. Perhaps the brooch subtly adjusted my desires after Mak’Torr made his advances? But I think not - I did enjoy looking at him before then. Though I didn’t interpret it as sexually motivated at the time, it could very well have been. Also, I’ve tried turning the brooch off (while he’s asleep, as he doesn’t know about my being a faelakar yet. I don’t think he knows what they are, so it’s going to take some explanation), and while my body noticeably quiets down, the desire to be with him is still there, even in the absence of his music.

I think I was attracted to him right from the start, even though I didn’t experience it sexually as a faelakar. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him hum and sing, feel his weight as he leaned against me, and even smell his presence. I wanted him even then, and told myself it was just the music that spoke to me. Though the music is pleasant, no mistake, I think he was pleasing to all my senses, perhaps even my spiritual ones. This actually makes more sense to me than the brooch creating desires out of whole cloth. Having an attraction to orcish males - or any other category of person - is less of an oddity for a faelakar, as matching race and sex are irrelevant to us. Our relationships were more on a mental and spiritual level. Or at least, so I’m told. I’ve cared enough to say that I loved many people over the course of my life, but I’ve never had a relationship of such intensity as to call it romance.

This realization - that I was attracted to him even without the brooch - makes me want to pursue this all the more. It has never happened before in my long life - how can I pass it up? Whatever he wants to do with me tonight, I think I’ll permit.

  


#### 14

Well, last night was...I might write ‘magical’, but that would be undervaluing it. It was incredible. I experienced such heights of pleasure that for a few moments, I literally could not think of anything else. I’m not accustomed to writing erotica, and there is the chance that someone might someday read this, so I’ll leave out the physical details. Not long ago I might have said ‘sordid details’, but there was nothing sordid about it. It was simply a beautiful way to share joy with another person.

Today I asked him how he felt about me, and why he did what he did last night. I wanted to know if he was trying to repay my generosity of assistance and money, which would be perfectly understandable. However, at this point, I’m hoping he feels something similar to the way I do. I’m still uncertain about it, but his response, a simple, “Because I like you, Verdan”, is more than acceptable for now.

  


#### 15

We arrived in Bralk last night, and once again shared our passion. Outdoors can be nice, but there’s definitely something to be said for the comfort and cleanliness of a soft bed when it comes to sex. The privacy of a locked room is also helpful when one is in a town full of people. I’ve noticed that in goblinesh gathers, multiple families will live communally in large huts, with movable dividers between ‘rooms’ rather than walls. Perhaps that’s enough privacy for publicly acknowledged couples, but for those who are not ready for public acknowledgement (like ourselves), rooms at inns could be very useful. I asked Mak’Torr if people might use hotel rooms just for sex, and he laughed, so maybe not.

  


#### 16

Today, before leaving Bralk, we stocked up on some supplies, and I made sure to pay attention to the orcs in the crowd. It would be nice to know if I’ve been missing out this whole time (though without the brooch, it wouldn’t have come to much regardless). There could be some attraction, I suppose, to other orcish men, but none of them quite get my attention like Mak’Torr does. Part of that is probably because I know him better, and I know that he reciprocates, but another part has something to do with their demeanor. Their body language is very closed off, even threatening. Even Mak’Torr does this in public to some extent, though in private with me, he is warm and inviting, even seductive. I’ve heard that as they sit at the top of the goblinesh caste system, orcs, male and female, are very concerned with social hierarchies, always needing to know who is superior to whom. It sounds exhausting, but then I suppose navigating elven social customs must be exhausting to those not familiar with them.

Anyway, as far as orcs go, any sign of vulnerability could be seen as an opportunity, so they are careful not to show any. Mak’Torr actually walks a fine line, playing the game enough not to draw attention, but managing to seem beneath the concern of others. I’d guess the incident in Ud occurred because he slipped up and either showed too much vulnerability or subtly challenged someone else’s dominance. I feel for him, but I also feel honored that he trusts me enough to let the façade drop when we’re alone. It likely helps that I am of a different race; I hope that once we reach the south, he’ll feel more free to act like his natural self.

  


#### 17

This has not been a good day. We met a traveling group of alakar elves around midday, and had lunch with them. I found out what year it is (3107 - I’m in a new millennium. Cheers.) and caught up on current events. I was a little annoyed with them because they at first treated me with deference and Mak’Torr as if he didn’t exist. Elf culture is just as bad about enforcing status as orcs are, if not worse. However, since he couldn’t understand our conversation, he started playing around on his guitar, and the alakar noticed him then. They joined in with instruments of their own, and it was nice. Unfortunately, at one point they handed me a lyre and insisted I play them a tune, and even more unfortunately, I agreed. I’d worried that my playing would suffer from lack of practice, but after a brief warmup I had no trouble. So, I accompanied myself on the lyre while singing a song from the classical tradition, the sort that never goes entirely out of style. I must have performed it well, for they applauded me afterward, more strongly than mere politeness would dictate. Mak’Torr appeared shocked - I had never performed music in front of him before - but at the time, I assumed he was appreciative. I even looked forward to teaching him some elven songs, as he always seemed to be on the lookout for new material and styles.

After we and the alakar parted ways, though, he was sullen and wouldn’t speak, other than terse, one-word responses to my questions. When I asked him what was wrong, he said, “Nothing”. I know people well enough to know that this is never true. So, I kept probing to see if I could find out what was wrong, and eventually he blew up at me. He berated me in a mixture of Galean and Goblinesh, so I didn’t catch everything, but the gist of it was that I always act condescending and superior, and he was sick of it. I’d never seen him so angry, and I was so surprised that I couldn’t say much in my defense, except that I couldn’t help my age and experience any more than he could help his youth and inexperience. That...didn’t help. After he ran out of things to say, he stormed off, and I followed at a distance. We set up camp in silence, and he once again set up his bed across the fire from mine.

  


#### 18

We made it out of Evershade Forest today, and will soon enter Olara. This ought to have been a happy occasion, but Mak’Torr is still not speaking to me. I suppose this means whatever we had between us is over. I knew when I started that romance is difficult and complicated, but I didn’t expect it to end so soon. It’s heartbreaking, but I’ve decided not to let it show that I’m in pain. If he doesn’t want me anymore, I don’t want him to take me back out of guilt.

At least the quiet today has given me a chance to consider what happened yesterday. I suspect that while finding out I can play music (at my age, it would be more shocking if I couldn’t) was a blow, and may have incurred feelings of jealousy, it wasn’t really the core of the issue. That would be the massive gap in our experience. He doesn’t know I’m a faelakar, but I have told him that I’m several millennia old. How does one manage having a romantic partner many times older than one will ever be? Even if he weren’t young for his race, and he is, there would be no way to bridge that gap. I will always have more knowledge and experience than he. I wish I could, at least temporarily, lock off my old memories to match my apparent age, so that we could be on equal terms. Alas, I do not know of any way to do that.

I wonder if he thinks he might have started falling in love with me (what a thing to say!) and his mind is acting in defense of his heart, to prevent it from irreparably attaching itself to such an ill-advised target. It’s not too late for you, Mak’Torr, to find someone closer to you in age and experience, with whom you can share new experiences for the first time as equals. It is, however, too late for me, and so I foolishly remain here, prolonging the inevitable.

  


#### 19

O happy day! Pardon my effusiveness, but I cannot restrain my delight. It appears this journal exists only so I can contradict myself, but no matter. I am elated to be wrong. Mak’Torr apologized to me for his outburst and subsequent sullenness as we packed up camp this morning. I assumed that he was leading up to suggesting we stop traveling together, but I still welcomed the display of maturity. He said that he feels like he doesn’t offer anything to someone like me, which is understandable but also far from the truth. My being able to play music on a more technically expert level than he was the final nail in the coffin, as he’d thought he at least exceeded me there. I apologized to him for ever making him feel inferior, and I told him that I value him for more than the sum of his knowledge and experience (this was very much true, but an odd statement, as I often value myself for nothing more than those). I also told him that while I looked forward to his skill in music improving, I loved it already as it was, and indeed it was the very thing that first drew me to him. I told him that I also loved his defiance of the demands of his culture, his excellent lovemaking, his intelligence, his personality, all the little things that make him who he is. In short, I love...him. Another thing I didn’t know was true until I said it. I teared up saying it, and I tear up even now writing it. He was silent for a time, and I told him that I would stay as long as he wanted, and I hoped that when we parted, we could remain friends.

That was when he scoffed and told me that he wasn't breaking up with me, and that having one argument doesn’t have to mean the end of a relationship. Honestly, I should have known that. One argument, even a major one, doesn’t usually end friendships, or any other kind of relationship, after all. Everything about this romance just feels more intense to me, and drowns my logical mind in emotion. But I will accept those emotions if they include what I felt when he next told me that he loved me back, even if I am a “pompous know-it-all” (his vocabulary is getting quite impressive), and that he’d be a “right idiot” to give me up. I told him that he deserves to be with someone more like him, and he said “There ain’t no one just like me, and there ain’t no one just like you.” Which goes to show that I am not always the wiser of us two.

  


#### 20

We’ve been enjoying staying in Rhion the past few days. Mak’Torr had never seen a large human and dwarven city before, and he wants to see everything. Olaran is the language of the region, but many here speak Galean as well, so he can get some practice. Though it’s not ideal, as their Galean is a harsher dialect than the one I know, with brassier vowels and no sense of rhythm, no doubt due to the influence of Olaran on it. Still, it’s enough to get by. Today we visited the border fortress (we weren’t allowed inside, but we got close. Very imposing) and then visited a ‘ribald house’, which I’d describe as a cross between a tavern and a theatre. We actually got in for free by saying we were performers, and we were even allowed on stage and earned a bit of money (I sang one of Mak’Torr’s songs while he accompanied me). Not that we really need it, but it was satisfying to work together. Then we got to watch others perform for the rest of the evening. Olaran bards are legendary, and we were able to see why. Rhion is first and foremost a military stronghold, as are most Olaran cities, so Mak’Torr, who wants a peaceful life, doesn’t want to stay here, but we should plan to return someday. Perhaps in the spring for their famous bardic competitions.

On another note, now that we are firmly out of goblinesh territory, I’ve asked Mak’Torr to use a different name for me. Verdan is simply too recognizable, especially if one knows that I am a druid as well. I decided on “Trayps”, because it sounds like a word for wandering aimlessly, which I find appealing. I became a recluse not only out of boredom, but also because of pressure. When one has done, on occasions long past, great or heroic deeds, the people who remember them expect one to continue doing such. However, they forget the failures and mistakes, which weigh on a person. Rather than trying to always find the most effective way to save the world (which is beyond my power despite my talents), I might like to spend a short lifetime living simply and happily for once. That will be difficult if the broader elven community learns that I am active once more. Mak’Torr agreed to use the new name, even though pet names have largely replaced it in our conversations. Sickeningly sweet, I know - how far I have fallen! Be not mistaken, though, I adore it.

  


#### 21

It has been a couple weeks since my last journal entry. I’ve been more focused on teaching Mak’Torr to read and write Galean in the evenings than updating my journal. We’ll be arriving in Galea soon, after all. Olara was fascinating for him, and it was sometimes difficult to pry him away from new sights and sounds. Galea is a little less interesting, relatively speaking, but he said he wants a peaceful life, and Galea is the best country I know of in which to do it, as long as one doesn’t suffer bankruptcy and enter serfdom. According to one person I asked in Olara, they don’t do that anymore, but I’ll believe that when I see it for myself. There’s sure to be some kind of systemic inequality in place, but that’s true just about everywhere (goblinesh gathers being the best counterexample, but of course they have a rigid caste system in its place), and Galeans tend to have a more content lower class than in many places.

I suppose, for my own future reference, I should mention the status of my romantic relationship. We’ve had a few squabbles here and there, but nothing like that first major argument. Mak’Torr is proving to be deft at using sarcastic barbs, which I am afraid he has learned from me. I actually find it engaging and even amusing rather than off-putting. So, we sometimes snip at each other in ways which an observer might infer as revealing a deeper dislike of one another, but actually are just the opposite. I’ve asked him directly about this, and he has told me he enjoys it, too. It eases tension, provokes laughter, and also sharpens his wit, an important skill for a bard.

But how am I experiencing this relationship? It has progressed beyond simple pleasure, though there is plenty of that to spare, particularly when we have our way with each other. I now find it difficult to imagine the near future without him. I know that, barring some tragic misfortune that befalls me, I will outlive him, and the pain of that will be great. But have I not consoled others by telling them that grief is a price we pay for love? And we should pay it gladly, for the value of the love is much greater than that of the grief, however intense it may be. I have told others this without having truly experienced it myself, and I hope I was telling the truth. Yes, I’ve loved others, including my now-departed eldakar children, but never in this way. I feel quite certain that the more intense my love is now, the more intense will be the grief. I now understand why some of my peers chose to form Life Bonds and die near the same time as their partners, to avoid paying the price for their love. That always struck me as cheating, and it still does. Right now, it’s a long way off, but I hope that I’ll be strong enough to get through it. I want to remember these feelings I’m having now. I want to remember Mak’Torr after he is gone. My job now is to cement my memories as best I can, so that one day I can look back and see that the good memories outweigh the bad. A life in which one avoids the best of experiences because they inevitably end would be missing the point, would it not?

Well, that is enough writing for one evening, I think. Mak’Torr has finished his bath and wants me in his bed. I do not always accept, for I have found that his sexual needs exceed mine, and I could stir resentment in myself if I convince myself that I cannot refuse. He has been understanding, fortunately, and he has my explicit permission to gratify his needs elsewhere if he so chooses (he has not taken up this offer yet, but it stands). Tonight, however…

  


#### 22

It has now been many months since my last entry. As Harry and I - ah yes, Mak’Torr has adopted a new name as well, which he hopes will help him fit in better here in Vale - settle into a routine, I find less cause to record my thoughts, as my emotional state hasn’t changed significantly. We slowly made our way south through Galea, and eventually stopped here in Vale. I also discovered that the dialect of Galean we heard in Olara is actually just what Galean is now. I’d forgotten that human languages evolve much faster than elven ones. Well. I’ll learn their new words, but I refuse to pronounce them in their coarse manner. Let them call me a relic, it’s hardly inaccurate.

Harry, despite his aspirations of being a bard, has admitted that the nomadic life is not for him, and he would like to have a home of his own. As such, we found an apartment to rent, and Harry plays various gigs around town while I work as a cook at a local tavern. I don’t need the money, but it’s good to keep busy, and I enjoy cooking. We work in the evenings, mostly, and during the day we take care of household chores and enjoy each other’s company. On days off, we explore the town, or head to the nearby mountains for some hiking.

We now have a decision to make. The owners of the tavern where I work are retiring, and as their daughter lives up north and is uninterested in taking it over, they are looking to sell the place. Harry has expressed a lot of interest in this. He loves coming to the tavern, especially when I’m cooking, and has played many a gig there. I told him that managing a tavern is entirely different from a career as a bard, but he wasn’t dissuaded. He assured me that he could learn, and based on how quickly he picked up Galean, I have no doubt that he can. My question is more of whether he would enjoy it, but he certainly seems to think he will. However, he stopped short when he saw the price they were asking for. In a country like Galea, owning land and property is out of reach of most citizens unless they inherit it. The old couple themselves didn’t own the tavern outright, and they need to pay off their own mortgage as well as saving enough to retire on. Harry wouldn’t even be able to secure a loan for that amount.

We, however, are not most citizens. I’ve kept money in various elven and human banks over the years, perfectly content to never touch it, in case of situations like these. I told him I could buy it, and we could run it together. If he ultimately decides he doesn’t like it, we can sell it again. However, he balked, as he worries that relying on me for every challenge in his life is “making his life too easy”. I think this is a holdover from his goblinesh upbringing, where most everyone starts on equal footing within their caste, and only their actions can change it. They have no sort of property inheritance there, and frown on those cultures that do. However, their culture also doesn’t set ludicrous barriers to entry to performing the work one wants (again, within one’s caste), so it’s not really a fair comparison.

I pointed out that no one in Galea would likely have such compunctions - if they had the means to buy something they wanted, they would just buy it. It is perhaps an unfair worldview, but it is one we’re surrounded by. But, I told him, if he wanted to build character, he could work hard and save money for a few decades and then see if he can qualify for a loan that he can spend the rest of his days paying off. Or, he could not do that, accept my help, and instead focus his energies on things he really wants to do, like playing his music or running a tavern. I think that helped put it in perspective. For my part, I’m already happy the way things are, but if this is where he wants his life to go, then I’ll do what I can to make it easier.

  


#### 23

We bought the tavern. I withdrew some extra money so we can give it an overdue renovation. While we’re waiting on that, Harry is planning the staffing, equipment and supplies he’ll need. Some of that will carry over from its previous owners, but we both think there’s a lot of room for improvement. All this week, he’s been visiting other taverns, inns, and restaurants in town to see what they do, and I offer advice when asked. He seems genuinely excited, which is a good sign for the longevity of this endeavor. I myself look forward to being able to dictate the menu; Harry has said I can make it fully vegetarian if I want, as it would distinguish us from the competition. High-quality meat is very expensive, as well.

As far as his music-playing goes, a key part of his business plan is regular music nights. He’ll perform many of them, but he hopes to invite other musicians as well, both to give patrons more variety and to learn from them. I now see his reasoning for wanting the tavern - if he’s decided he’s not going to travel the world and learn from other bards there, then he’s going to have them come to him. I’m not sure his line of thinking is that direct, but it could work out well. At some point I’ll have to point out that there are bardic schools that do this more explicitly, but I’ll wait a while so as not to spoil the moment now. The existence of a better option doesn’t make this a bad one. There are probably other factors at work, as well, so it’s possible he wouldn’t like that one better. After all, here he might become a pillar of the community, which is its own reward.

This might be my final journal entry for some time. I’m enjoying life enough without having to examine it all the time. The examination itself can temper the enjoyment, after all. I know that not long ago, I was worried about cementing every memory in stone, but I’m less worried about it now. I doubt I could forget about Harry now even if I tried. I think of him as a part of me - an independent and often unpredictable part to be sure, but still, I care about him and his future as much as I care about myself, if not more. And yet, if we should have to part even before his death, I think both of us could manage it. It would be sad, of course, but I feel like the good memories on the balance of the scales already outweigh any potential bad ones. That satisfies me enough that focusing on those future negative possibilities is a waste of my time. I would rather focus on the present. At this moment, I am content, with frequent spikes of euphoria. I have a partner and mate with whom to share experiences, and it matters not if those experiences are new to me, for they are new to him. That is all I could ask for, and more than most ever get. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, and the day after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary
> 
> Alakar – ("New Blooded" elves) - any fae with at least some human blood, though not so much that they are considered half-elves. At this point, they make up the majority of the fae. They are much more closely bound to the mortal realm, and while they can live a long time compared to humans, they are not ageless.
> 
> Darkness – not just an amorphous concept, but rather a description of the shadowy influence of Vainar, god of undeath. He is worshipped in Shaya'Nor, and by many of the goblinesh gathers near there. Darkness can corrupt living creatures and turn them into monsters like ghouls, werewolves, or the troglanesh.
> 
> Dregordians – large humanoid lizards that live in the west of Shaintar.
> 
> Eldakar – ("Old Blooded" elves) - the first fae to be born in Shaintar, and the descendants of the faelakar. They are also ageless, and have a strong connection to the spirit world, though not so much as their forebears. Their numbers have also dwindled due to various disasters and outbreeding (with humans, mostly).
> 
> Fae – can either refer to elves as a whole, or their primary language.
> 
> Faelakar – the first elves, actually spirits brought into Shaintar and given living forms when the world was new. Their bodies are ageless, but not immortal. As no new faelakar have ever been created, their numbers have dwindled to almost nothing. Like all fae, they appear to other races as having an unearthly beauty.
> 
> Galea – a country in the southeast of the main continent of Shaintar, far from the warfronts against the Kal-A-Nar Empire to the northwest, and Shaya'Nor to the northeast. Primarily inhabited by humans, but others are not unwelcome. Their language, Galean, is common throughout the Southern Kingdoms.
> 
> Goblinesh – essentially another species (though some cross-breeding with humans has happened on occasion) made up of three races: goblins, orcs, and ogres, the former being the smallest and most numerous, the latter being the largest and least numerous. Other races tend to consider them rather monstrous-looking. In their own society, particularly in the north, they live in communes called gathers, where they share wealth. One's race generally dictates one's place in life: brute muscle for the ogres, leaders and warriors for the orcs, and for the goblins, everything else. The goblinesh were originally brought to Shaintar as the troglanesh, which were versions of the three above races corrupted by Darkness into troglodytes, hobgoblins, and trolls. The Silver Unicorn, embodying the spirit of Shaintar itself, freed some of these troglanesh from their enslavement, turning them into the goblinesh. Goblinesh with a capital G refers to the language rather than the people.
> 
> Life Bond – a special relationship bond that some fae enter with their partners, whether fae or not. It is notable for causing a surviving partner to die shortly after the first does, and is therefore considered both romantic and controversial, particularly when a faelakar or eldakar Life Bonds with one of the shorter-lived mortal races.
> 
> The Northern Gathers – a region of north-central Shaintar dominated by goblinesh gathers. They tend to stay neutral in the conflict between the Southern Kingdoms and Kal-A-Nar and Shaya'Nor, but individual gathers are strongly influenced by the countries they are near. Still, goblinesh culture favors solidarity over division.
> 
> Olara – a human and dwarf-dominated country in central Shaintar, just south of the Northern Gathers territory. Located at the edge of the Southern Kingdoms, it is always the first of those countries involved in skirmishes with Kal-A-Nar or Shaya'Nor. Olaran is primarily spoken here, along with some Galean.
> 
> Raven Brooch – a magic item created by Saiderin the Wanderer. It allows Verdan to transform into other races for the purposes of disguise. Unlike the shapechange spell, it is permanent until deactivated or the brooch is taken off.
> 
> Saiderin the Wanderer – an exceptionally powerful and influential faelakar, tasked with the protection of Shaintar as a whole. Also known as the Raven.
> 
> Shapechange – a druid spell that allows the user to transform into an animal for a brief period.
> 
> There are some other place names, and they're all real places on the Shaintar map, but I think I was clear enough about which country they were in. They don't need much more explanation than is already present.


End file.
